A Gentle Pat
by ShamefulMan
Summary: Inspired by the H-game "Teaching Feeling/Living with a Slave." An incredible game with a great angst, hurt/comfort plot. I HIGHLY recommend it. This game provides such an amazing base for a fanfic because it revolves around the player's choice, and for the sake of some uniqueness from NeCaSa's amazing fic for this game… I decided to go for a slightly different route. Enjoy


**Inspired by the H-game "Teaching Feeling/Living with a Slave." An incredible game with a great angst, hurt/comfort plot. I HIGHLY recommend it. This game provides such an amazing base for a fanfic because it revolves around the player's choice, and for the sake of some uniqueness from NeCaSa's amazing fic for this game… I decided to go for a slightly different route. Will maybe, eventually contain some smut, but not as intense as the imagery contained in the game. Enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I'm not an amazing writer, so I'm sorry if y'all English major fanfic aficionados get offended by my blatant lack of skill. I just enjoy imagining hurt/comfort stories, and I hope I get to convey those cold-warm feeling transitions to you guys via this medium! Enjoy. Or don't… But I'd rather you do…**

"Thank you so much, Dr. Fret. Have a lovely rest of your day!"

He nary looked at her before looking down to write in his patients log and replying with his usual flat tone, "Yep. You too, Mrs. Williams. Stay away from those sweets. Ok?"

"Will do, doctor! Again thank you so mu-"

 ***SLAM***

The sounds of her gratitude cut silent as he closed the door abruptly.

His hands busied away on the notes while his mind let out a drawn-out sigh. He feels a weight in his eyelids accrued from the length and burdens of the day… stacked atop the week's… and atop the months… the year's even… _I need a vacation… or just some damn sleep._

He pandiculates, lets out a loud yawn, and lifts his hand to check the time. Alas, he had forgotten to wear his watch today. Must have left it upstairs next to his nightstand. Judging from the color of the skies outside the window though, it seems to be _maybe_ _late afternoon?_ _I reckon it's probably best if I call it a day._

The stethoscope is dropped from the neck haphazardly onto the desk. The patient log thrown into a drawer that is slammed then locked shut with an old brass key.

The good doctor's residence was fortunately in the same building as his practice, just one floor up. Although it proves to be convenient, he knows it is certainly detrimental for his own health.

Dr. Fret slowly makes his way up the stairs when suddenly an audible but unurgent knock was heard from his practice's door.

He stops in the middle of the stairs as he looks back toward the entrance. His mind debated sending them away.

…

…

…

He sighed and slowly made his way back down the stairs to answer the door.

A man stood before him wearing a brown trench coat, bowler hat, and a sleezy smile.

"Good doctor!" He greeted with great enthusiasm.

Dr. Fret blinks a couple times but offered no verbal response.

"Don't you remember me? You treated my head pains just a couple of moons ago!" He tried to remind him.

Dr. Fret blinks a few more times before slowly nodding, "Right… So… what can I help you with this time?"

"It's quite alright if you don't remember because I am just ecstatic that I had met you. For you might be the answer to my new… ehh… conundrum."

The doctor's eyes fell half-lidded as he began seriously regretting his decision, his mind and body longs only for his bed and his whiskey.

The strange man clears his throat, "Forgive me, let me get to my point. Your reputation of being so reliable and helpful really precedes you, so I was hoping you would be able to help me hold onto something?"

"Hold onto something?" Dr. Fret inquired but was still unamused.

"You see… Current circumstances has made my ownership of this item rather… inconvenient. I won't bore you with the details. Hehehe… Long story short… I just need someone to hold onto or just simply keep this item for me." His laugh was a little nervous which made the doctor a little uneasy.

"I'm not sure I care to oblige to this proposition given its… peculiar nature. I do wish you the best of the luck though." He responds flatly. "Good night." The doctor begins to close the door.

"Wait!" The strange man suddenly interjected as he grabbed the door. "Please… at least just… let me show it to you."

The doctor stares at the strange man with his eyebrows raised, then pinches the bridge of his nose letting out a small grunt. "Alright. Please be quick about then."

The strange man chuckles with delight, "Thank you good doctor! Ok…" He turns his head to mutter angrily to something behind him.

Suddenly a small girl emerged from behind the man, she was barely half the doctor's size. Dr. Trek's eyes widened, his brows furrowed.

She was wearing a slave's rags; her hair was dark and rather unkempt. Her feet were bare, and her frame incredibly thin. The bones of her shoulder protruded slightly. She clutched onto her own arms with apparent insecurity, and her gaze was evasive and low. Dr. Trek furrowed his brows when he observed large skin lesions all over her right shoulder and left wrist. The same could be observed on her legs _Looks like a combination of burns, contusions, and scars_. He began to realize the same lesions were present but diffuse all across her face as well.

 _Quiet and evasive demeanor. Obvious signs of insecurity and fear. Unusual patterns of injury on skin._

…

 _These all seem to point to physical abuse… and likely mental abuse as well._

However, what was most disturbing was the look in her eyes. Though the eyes themselves were large and beautiful, they did not appear sad nor happy, just hollow. Devoid of any emotions or passion.

"Well! Here it is!" the strange man exclaimed. He lightly kneed her and cleared his throat loudly.

She winced a little from the unexpected knee, but quickly stammered out in a small, but leveled voice, "Hello sir… M-m-y name is Sylvie… I belonged to Sir Reginald of the Reginald m-m-anor, sir… pleased to meet you."

There was a second of awkward silence before Sylvie jolted "Oh. Forgive me…"

She quickly bowed like a kid forgetting her cues during a school play. The bow was uncomfortably low, a little past 90 degrees.

Dr. Trek did could not even offer a greeting back due to the stupor he now found himself in. His eyes were wide with disgust and his brows furrowed in in a mix of disbelief and anger. _How barbaric… slavery?! And of such a young lady, no less!_

Finally, the doctor replied as he turned to the strange man, "I'm sorry… 'it'?"

"Ah yes. It's the property of Sir Reginald. I'm not sure if you've heard, but he suffered a tragic accident recently and has passed on to the merciful father above. Bless his soul. His property is being dispersed accordingly, you see." His hand gestured toward the girl.

"I'm sorry, are you suggesting this poor child is being 'dispersed' right now?" Dr. Trek inquired with some exasperation.

"Yes I'm afraid so… Poor little devil wasn't accounted for in Sir Reginald's will, so she was given to back to her original… errr… merchant I suppose." The man ruffled the girl's hair which made her close her eyes, her hands tightened their grip on each other, and her face shown great discomfort.

Dr. Trek shook his head. "So why are you here…?"

"Well Dr. Trek. In case it isn't painfully obvious by now, I am said 'merchant' and let's just say the authorities at this point are not too keen on my ehhh… industry... heh…"

"Neither am I." The doctor said through his teeth.

The man chuckled awkwardly, "Don't worry Dr. Trek… I don't intend on selling her to you. I'm actually just hoping you would take her under your care. She's very behaved and requires **very** minimal care. Hahah! I'd say a dog is more of a burden than she would ever be. You can pretty much not feed her, you can kick her around, force her to do anythi-"

The doctor raised his hand to the man's face gesturing him to stop talking. "What if I refuse? What happens then?"

The man's face dropped and went into a melodramatic melancholy look. "Well…" he stroked Sylvie's hair. She cringed a little. "Then… poor Sylvie here will probably be left on the streets for the dogs… or worse yet, sent back to those abattoirs they call 'orphanages'" The man exaggerated a mocking pout to feign pity.

 _This guy is getting on my nerves_.

…

…

The doctor rubbed his temples hard with both hands. He closed his eyes to brood.

…

…

…

The man interrupted his thought, "Well…? Will you save this poor thing's life?" Spoken again with that annoying mocking-pity voice.

…

…

…

The doctor glanced over at Sylvie. Throughout this entire conversation, she didn't say a word nor did she ever make eye contact with him. He, himself, never liked kids in his clinic too much… let alone live with and take care of one. But he certainly did not wish for her to perish. And he certainly did not enjoy the idea of letting this creep's actions decide that for her. However, at the same time, he knew he could not provide the care needed to take care of a sickly girl such as her. He reasoned she was probably better off with someone else more capable and benevolent.

"Sorry. I fear I am unable to oblige, I'm sure someone else would be happy to help." The doctor replied coldly. He noticed the diminutive girl glanced up at him. He sensed dread from her.

"Good day and good luck." The doctor bid them, then shut the door.

He began walking back up the stairs to his residence but stopped halfway up yet again. For some reason, he was expecting another knock or perhaps another plea from the strange man. But… nothing.

…

…

"Agh." He shook his head to dismiss any residual guilt he might have felt. _I couldn't help her anyway._ Alone, he made his way up to the kitchen and fixed himself a meal with his whiskey. Eventually, the whiskey segued into a disoriented slumber.

And so, the day was over for the good doctor. 

* * *

Morning came. Dr. Trek prepared his morning routine of lazing about in his bed for half an hour before bumbling over to the bathroom to make himself decent. Then came breakfast of the blandest sort: potatoes, eggs, and whatever meat was on sale… sometimes even squirrel. He did not lack the gold, but simply refused to be "legally robbed."

He always contemplated having a bit of the ol' devil's drink in the early morn, but alas his concern for his professionalism always got the better of him.

…

…

The day transpired unremarkably as his routine persisted. Saw 15 patients and denied 4 due to their belligerent antics. He is quick to dismiss the "disturbed" patients in recent years having dealt with them for quite some time. The rest of the mild-mannered, commonfolk patients came to him with stomach pains, head pains, and body aches. All of them, however, claim ridiculous causes to their symptoms: "my cat bewitched me, doctor." "My wife disrespected the forest spirit" "the clouds aligned with the moon in an ominous arrangement, doctor."

"Ugh…" He rubbed his head as he logged down the bizarre explanations. Though his master had left him many seasons ago, he still tries to retain his practice of writing down patients' stories and opinions.

"Remember Atlas, the trick to an accurate diagnosis can only be deduced using your genuine care and attentive mind to the patient's story. Preconceived notions are the leading cause to misdiagnosis and, in my opinion, a total violation to the Hippocratic Oath." He remembers his master's lesson. Although, overtime its wisdom has eroded and become archaic to him.

 _I'm trying here…Master Briggs. Perhaps, my heart is not as charitable or genuine as you had believed when you took me in. Time has jaded me, unfortunately._

He finished the last log before closing up the clinic.

A brief moment after closing the door, a knock was heard.

"I'm closed! Unless it's a medical emergency, come back tomorrow." He yelled through the door.

There was a pause.

"Uhm… I'm sorry doctor, I just wanted to speak to you about something. I-I-I suppose it's not technically urgent… But…" The voice of an older woman spoke through the keyhole.

Normally, he would disregard this. Sneak thieves and gypsies tend to be roaming at this hour, but for some reason… today, he felt compelled to entertain this.

He slowly opened the door to a crack and leaned his weight against it to prepare for a hasty shutting should events prove… inconvenient.

"What is it? Oh. Mrs. Williams." He recognized her.

"Yes doctor it's me… Uhh… Terribly sorry to bother you at this hour. I'm not sure if you know this, but I have been running errands all day in town you see… And I passed your clinic many a time. And every time I did, I noticed a strange rather dirty child… I think she's a girl… just sitting beside your building. It's quite unsettling really, we seldom have a character of that demeanor roundabouts here. I just wanted to bring it to your attention."

He raised his brows. _Could it be her?_

"Hm. Thank you for telling me, Mrs. Williams. I'm sure it's just a gypsy or vagabond, they frequently wander around this area. Don't worry." He assured despite having his own doubts.

"Oh… I don't think so, doctor… She's not begging or anything. She doesn't appear to possess anything and is dressed in a single rag. In fact, she's nary moved a muscle each time I passed. It's quite frightening actually… I'm not even sure if she's just died sitting up, heaven forbid."

…

The doctor sighed. "Again, thank you Mrs. Williams. But I'm sure it's nothing for you to worry about. You best head on home now before the night falls."

She nodded and smiled uneasily before scurrying off holding her many bags presumably from all the shopping she did during the day.

The doctor closed the door and sighed. He debated whether or not to investigate.

After a minute of contemplation, he opted to head back upstairs to have his dinner.

* * *

He left his empty dishes inside the sink; his body ached a bit as the fatigue started to set in. It wasn't as bad as the day before, but its effects were still very debilitating.

As he left the kitchen he heard the pitter patter of rain outside.

…

…

…

Shortly after, a light rumbling from the skies could be heard.

 _Don't think about…_

…

…

He headed back to his room and sat on his bed for a few minutes. He knew full well what was on his mind. That poor thing, if she's still alive, must be freezing out there.

…

…

 _Heaven knows what sorts of nefarious individuals are lurking about at this time of the night…_

…

He continued to sit there waiting for his guilt to dispel and to instead tend to his own fatigue.

…

…

 _Why is the guilt not abating?_ In fact, it's worsened. Something like fear or trepidation gripped his heart. It has been a long time since he has felt this, nothing seems to scare him anymore with all the death and illnesses he's diagnosed and treated over the years. But this… this disturbed him.

He began to recall her hollowness, her obvious absence of life and torment she must have sustained to reach that state of hollowness must be… _unimaginable._

…

…

10 minutes passed. Some part of him still hoped to just let this go, he liked his routines, his certainties. Surely if he invited her in now, he would be at a loss. Under his care, she would probably suffer just as much as before… maybe worse. Maybe she has been traumatized so terribly that there was no hope for her, maybe death could be a sweet release for her poor soul.

He slapped himself hard suddenly. His face reddened from the strike.

 _What in the world am I thinking? Everyone deserves another chance, that's why I picked this damn profession in the first place. But I'm ill-equipped. I'm… I'm afraid of what's to come._

…

…

Another 10 minutes passed.

…

…

Suddenly, without thinking anymore, he stood up, grabbed his coat, a lamp, an umbrella, and a towel… and headed out into the night.

* * *

The skies were pitch black, the road was very wet. The dark clouds above continued to pour.

He turned to the right to check the direction Mrs. Williams gestured at earlier. Even with the lamp, it was difficult to see past a meter of darkness. The wind howling, and the trees rustling only exacerbated the obscurity of the night.

He continued his search around the back of his building and noticed something odd.

…

A piece of wood leaning against the wall at an angle. The rain dribbled down its frame.

Another thunderous roar could be heard from the skies, this time louder than the first.

Suddenly he noticed the piece of wood moved a little and a small "yip!" from underneath it.

He slowly and cautiously approached the piece of wood and crouched down to see.

He raised his lamp and sure enough… it was that poor girl curled up in a tight squat against the wall trying her best to avoid the leaks coming through her makeshift roof.

 _That bastard really just abandoned her._ _She doesn't even know where to go or who to see, so she just stayed here this whole time… where he left her. That sick, lowlife, scum of a man… ugh._

 _But I suppose I'm no better having turned her down and all…_

Her eyes looked into his with fear and distress. Her body was shivering probably because of both the cold and his sudden intrusion, her hair and rags were soaked to the bone.

The doctor let out a long sigh as he reached for his towel and gently extended it out to her.

She continued to stare at him not even acknowledging the towel. She sneezed, but quickly clasped her mouth and nose with both hands as if she had committed a mortal sin.

Out of reflex she announced to him, "I've not fallen ill! Please… Don't… don't…"

His eyes widened, and he felt a fleeting sting of tears which he was fast to hold back. He couldn't even begin to imagine what that was supposed to mean, and what circumstances have conditioned her to deny herself in such a way.

"It's ok…" He tried to comfort. He'd never offer proper comforting words before, so it was ad lib at this point. "Come inside. It's too cold out."

She continued to stare at him unmoving but shivering harder.

…

…

He tried again this time a little louder fearing the rain had muffled his volume, "Uhm… Sorry did you hear me? It's raining heh. You'll get sick if yo-"

"I'm not sick! I promise!" She quickly responded, her eyes filled with fear. "I'm fine. I'm… fine."

"Ok ok! You're fine. You're fine. I'm fine. Everyone's fine. Ok?" He tried his best to calm her down. Clearly physical health was a sensitive topic for her.

She stopped talking but still maintained eye contact, although the fear seemed to have drifted a tad.

"Ok… But… It's freezing out here, and I can't have you just sitting here outside my house like this…"

Her eyes widened, "I'm sorry, sir! I'll move. I understand." She quickly stood up hitting her head against the wood and flinging the makeshift roof away, the rain is pouring down on her head now. She seems unfazed but did wince a little from the bump on the head. She started to walk off into the foliage nearby.

"No! Wait. Sylvie right?" he called out.

She stopped and slowly turned her head. "Ye-y-yes sir…"

He quickly ran up to her to hold the umbrella over her head and wrapped the towel around her small soaked body.

"Please… Just come inside ok? It's just not safe or warm enough out here tonight." He pleaded.

Her body was stiff, this unexpected warmth enveloped her so suddenly, warmth was so… foreign to her. She noticed how much taller and larger this strange doctor was than her and grew even more scared.

"Why? I am a slave, sir… I have no worth. I just need to find a Master who will have use for me. I have no purpose now... I'm lost." She explained pathetically.

He took a deep breath to take in everything she just said, "It's ok. You don't need a master, Sylvie. You're a human being, you have rights by law! Just come with me and at least just rest here for one night."

"Sir… I don't know where to go. I have no master. I cannot burden you with my presence for… f-free…" She replied quietly.

"Ok… Look. I'm trying to help you here, ok? Please just take my offer." He was getting a little impatient, but quickly adjusted his tone to something softer and friendlier despite the words he chose.

"I…" she began to speak, but suddenly let out a loud retching cough and doubled over. She seemed to have produced some fluids out of her mouth, though it was hard for him to see in the dark.

"Sylvie?!" He crouched down to help her back up as she continued coughing.

He felt some of the fluid splatter onto his hand, he brought it up to the light. _It's blood._ His physician instincts kicked into overdrive.

"Sylvie… Come inside, I need to check you… You are very sick." He tried to sternly advise her.

"No~~" she wheezed out with whatever pitiful amount of breath she could spare "No one would want a worthless… *cough* sick… slave… I… will never find… a maste-"

He grabbed her by both shoulders and turned her to face him as he crouched to her level. "Sylvie, you will die if you stay out here do you understand? I want to help you. And if you're not in the position to refuse, it would make it much easier on me. So…"

He took a big gulp of air before resuming. _Ok here we go._

"I will be your Master. And my first and only 'order' is for you to get into my home, get warm and fed, and let me perform a medical check up on you." His eyes were resolute, his brows furrowed.

She stared back into his eyes timidly, her cough seemed to have abated. "Re-really? I…"

"That's my order." He reminded her.

"Yes… m-m-master…" She relented and let him guide her back into his home.

 _That… was painful to say the least…_

* * *

Sylvie entered the good doctor's residence soaking from head to toe.

She cringed at the sight of all the water dripping onto his floor.

He noticed her distress and quickly nipped it at the bud, "Don't worry. It's just water. The shower is right over. Go clean yourself up and I'll make us some dinner."

He handed her a towel and one of his shirts for pajamas. She just stared at it as if she had never seen these things in her life.

In the light, the doctor noticed the scars more clearly. They were not bleeding nor pustular, it seemed they have scarred over for some time already.

He entered the bathroom and filled the tub with warm water and added a bit of lavender essence into the water. He had been saving it for a few years already hoping to use it on days that proved too stressful. However, it's clear to him now… his life was essentially stress-free relative to poor Sylvie's.

Sylvie continued to stand there with the items in her wet hands.

"Uhm… master… what do you need me to clean, again? I'll t-try to clean anything. Or… perhaps, you wish to hit me for the trouble I caused tonight?" she asked nervously but innocently.

His hair stood on its ends. _What did she just ask?_

"I'm sorry, Sylvie… did you just ask if I wanted to hit you?" He reluctantly tried to clarify.

"Y-y-yes… Uhh… My former master… H-he very much enjoyed hurting me in all manners of ways. My screaming and suffering brought him joy he says. Perhaps it will bring you joy too… Master seems a little upset with me probably because I made you stand out in the rain for so long… which is why I asked… but forgive me if I spoke out of turn… I will gladly accept any punishment…" She explained.

It was clear what the source of her scars were now. Her former master must have been beating her quite frequently for them to manifest with such permanence. The lesions' color was a lot more profound that he had originally perceived. They were almost a deep scarlet.

…

…

"It's ok…" she suddenly said. It almost startled him, he just realized he had been staring at her for a while now not saying a thing. "My former master used to enjoy looking at the… th-the 'paintings' he had left on me too. It reminded him how good of a job he did to… t-to discipline me."

 _What…? WHO… WHAT GOD…WHAT HOLY FORCE OF THIS UNIVERSE WOULD ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN?_

He almost felt his screaming thoughts shake the room, he tried his best to mask his rage.

"Sylvie… I told you… you're only order was to enter my home… get warm… and let me do a check up on you… So you shall do just that, you understand? There will never be any harm of any kind coming to you. So please… just… just go take a bath and come to the kitchen later ok?" He tried to convey calmly and nicely.

She looked at him for a while before averting her gaze to the ground. "Y-yes master…" She walked into the bathroom and undressed right in front of him.

His face turned scalding red, like a brand heating up in the firepit. He quickly averted his gaze and darted toward the kitchen. In an attempt to unsee what he had just saw, he got to cooking dinner. This time… for two. No whiskey.

* * *

She stared at the bathtub while standing in the nude.

The wisps of steam dancing around the water intrigued her. She had never seen warm water before. Just standing near it made her body feel… different. There was also a scent, such a lovely calming scent. This, of course, was the lavender but Sylvie had never seen or heard of such a thing before.

Despite the amazing aroma and the inviting warmness, she stood there stiff. Her body was drawn to the comforting feeling, but her mind screamed and clawed at her "NO!"

Too many times in her life was she given glimmers of hope only to see them swiftly crushed. In fact, her former Master often exploited her in these ways. He occasionally offered her glimpses of kindness and generosity just to maintain some naivety in her. Then when she shows even the slightest hope and/or life in her eyes, he crushed it with a full night of physical and mental torment. Choking, whipping, drowning, lacerating, berating comments. The only silver lining she could recall from all of that was that he never raped her.

Although, his reason was no less abusive: "You're scared a man would ever insert himself into a disgusting worthless worm like you? No, not even the most desperate, pathetic heathen would even use you as his device. You are never going to be worthy of receiving any part of any man's body. Something like you deserves only to be beaten with objects, with things that are inanimate such as yourself."

She gulped anticipating the worst. This had to have been some sick ploy to have her drop her guard. This had to. The doctor had turned her down before, but just now he decided to take her in? She was sure now, he must be plotting something. Despite that, it was not within her rights to defy her Master's orders, so she cautiously stepped into the bathtub and cleaned herself. Master had even put soap out for her, she's only smelled the scent of soap before on the other maids and butlers as they walked by to clean her 'room'. However, this is the first time she's seen where it came from.

She tried her hardest not to enjoy the bath. Reminding herself the inevitable beating that is to come. There was no escape now. She knew she must not give into this ruse…

…

…

But it felt so good. The water surrounded her, the warmth nourished and thawed her icy exterior. And even to some extent, revitalized a small part of her icy soul. She never expected physical warmth to be so… well… warm.

That sweet aroma filled her nose. Her mind began to imagine what sort of beautiful plant these scents have come from? Was it red? Blue? Purple? Green? Or all of those colors combined? Was it tall or small? Her heart involuntarily fluttered from this sensory overload.

…

A small tear rolled down from her eyes. She quickly wiped it away. She knew she cannot bask in this, cannot indulge herself, cannot be… weak. This would be her undoing. She quickly stood up out of the tub and wiped herself dry.

As she attempted to dress herself in her new Master's shirt, her body already ached for the warmness of the bath. She gave it another quick glance and tried to commit everything she felt to memory because she knew this was probably the last good thing she will ever receive for the rest of her miserable life.

This new Master was such an anomaly to her. His mannerisms are so mild, and he asked for the strangest services. None of which seemed to benefit him. But she knew all of it was to build her up because she knows (as she's been told many a time before): "it's no fun to crush something that had nothing to begin with."

With the bath taken, cloaked in the strange doctor's garments on her, she slowly made her way to the kitchen where she was sure her horrifying punishment awaited.

* * *

Sylvie quietly approached the entrance to the kitchen, she stopped when she heard a strange lulling noise from within.

It sounded like… humming.

She slowly tiptoed up to the doorway and peered inside making sure she was silent.

Sure enough, there was the doctor humming a deep but beautiful tune while plating pasta onto his porcelain dishes.

As he finished, he turned around to set up the table. In the midst of his turn, he caught a glimpse of Sylvie peeking in.

She quickly tried to retract her head from the doorway hoping she hadn't been detected.

"Oh. Sylvie." He greeted. "Sit down. I made dinner. Is pasta ok for you? Sorry, I'm not sure what you eat. I hope you're not allergic to anything." He laid out two plates of pasta, a small tin cup with apple juice inside for her and a coffee for himself.

He let out a drawn out sigh of relief. "Alright." His tone finally perked up a bit after seeing the food laid out. He hadn't noticed how hungry rescuing her had made him.

"Let's eat then!" He announced picking up his fork. Just as he was about to dig in, he noticed she was not in her seat. In fact, she wasn't even in front of him.

He quickly scanned the room and noticed she was sitting on her legs in the far corner of the kitchen floor. She was now clad in his shirt, the dirt and rocks she was covered with earlier seem to have all been washed away. Despite her newfound cleanliness, her scars were still as clear as day.

Her gaze seemed hollow still as she seemed to be fixated on the tiles of his kitchen. He thought something was bothering her, but noticed her face shown no distress, in fact… she appeared to be the calmest she had ever been since he first met her.

"Sylvie? Don't you want to eat?" He asked softly.

She looked up at him before turning her eyes to the floor. She looked like she was waiting for something. "Oh… Uhm… Sorry, I-I-I don't understand. Master hasn't laid out my food yet."

"Wha- Sylvie. The food is over here, on this table." He gestured toward the pasta he had made for them.

"That… that's master's food… and I'm guessing the second plate is for Master's guest tonight? Someone who is running… late?" she innocently deduced.

 _Well… there goes my appetite. Poor thing must have never had a proper meal before._

He stood up from the table and picked up all the food to lay it down before her. Her eyes widened.

"Master… what are you doi-?"

"Sylvie. Look… and listen very carefully to me ok?" He almost cooed out to her.

Her gaze locked with his eyes giving him her undivided attention.

She was certain, she was going to get the beatdown of her life now. It had to be coming right now. He's definitely going to smash the plates against her head and try to drown her with the contents of the cups. It must be a matter of time.

The doctor focused on her eyes before speaking slowly, "This pasta here. This is your food to eat Sylvie. And this cup of apple juice… here… is for you to drink. You can eat and drink these for your dinner tonight. They're not for anyone else, ok?"

It just felt odd having to be so explicit to anyone like this, but the doctor knew he must be patient.

Sylvie stared at the food items laid out before her with some uneasiness.

"P-past-a? Apple… juice?" She stammered.

"Yes Sylvie. Noodles with sauce, and a fruit's… inside turned into a drink." He explained.

She gazed upon it curiously before looking back up at him. "Thank you… Master." She began to pick up some pasta from the plate with her hands to eat it. It was making a mess. She quickly stopped eating as soon as she noticed the mess she was making.

"Here." The doctor reached out to wipe the floor with a towel and gripped her hand. He then placed a fork in her small fingers.

For about 30 minutes, he explained and used her own arm to demonstrate how to hold and use a fork. She watched him perplexed as he explained the mechanics of this foreign object.

Soon enough, she was able to use the fork to pick up one or two strands of noodles at a time.

He smiled at her progress.

"Here. Try the apple juice." He pushed the cup toward her. She picked it up and took a small sip. Her eyes widened for a moment. Her sip turned into large gulps. In a matter of seconds, the cup was empty.

"Whoa. Thirsty, huh?" He commented with a chuckle.

She averted her gaze embarrassed, "That was… I have never tasted anything like that. It was… so good."

 _Of course…_

"Well I'm just glad you like it Sylvie, please have more!" Before she could object, he poured her another cup.

The next few moments played out silently. The two of them sitting on the floor of the kitchen just quietly eating.

…

…

…

…

…

Suddenly, he heard sniffles. He looked up from his food and noticed Sylvie had tears flowing from her eyes. She dropped her fork and put two hands over face and quickly turned her body.

Her sniffles turned into a quiet sob.

…

The doctor put his fork down as his gaze fell to the floor. He pondered the justice of this world. What did this poor girl do to deserve a childhood like this? Abandonment, pain, torment, and agony were all she had to live for. His heart overflowed with sadness as he knew full well her tears only reflected her turmoil.

The thoughts that bedeviled her during this time was simply unfathomable.

Without thinking, he reached out to pat her head. Her hair was so soft and frail just like her.

The sounds of her sob came to a sudden halt, but her shudders could still be felt. She did not retract from him and she did not protest. "M-master?"

"Hey… uhhh… I would ask what's wrong… But… I get a feeling it's just… that you've been through a lot." He tried to placate.

She sniffled a couple of times. He continued to pet her. This time he shuffled a little closer to sit next to her.

"I… yeah… Listen, you can talk to me whenever you want to ok? Whenever you're… ready." he reassured her. "I… I promise I will not hurt you in any way or form. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did anything like that… to anyone really." He knew not what words to use, but these, he felt, would simply have to suffice.

"And… look Sylvie… I'm really sorry about turning you away earli-"

She suddenly turned to him, her eyes still puffy, red, and wet. "No!" She refuted him.

He retracted his hand a bit and gazed upon her with surprise.

"No… It's not Master's fault. It's my fault for burdening you… And I am burdening you again with my emotions. Please pay no attention to me, I am… just… confused. A confused worthless slave…"

He resumed petting her.

"No Sylvie. You're not. You're a hurt little girl with her whole life ahead of her. And you shall get to live that life. No one is going to hurt you anymore."

She looked at him with her eyes still distraught filled with despair and confusion. "Master… I've never eaten anything sweet in my life… All I've ever eaten were scrapped bread and water… The bath you let me have, the warmth, the smell, the tastes… Why are you doing this?" Her eyes looked so hurt, her question was pleading, her curiosity and confusion was so pure.

Her lips began to quiver. "Why…" Her voice cracked. "I am weak now… Master… I know you know… please… please don't use this to hurt me. Please… I…" Her sobs began to obscure her words.

A tear began to roll down his cheek as well, all the pain she suffered has taught her heart to doubt and distrust any and all goodness in this world.

She lives in a world where any hint of her happiness would be taken advantage of in the worst, most sickening ways.

 _Her former master probably exploited her little moments of bliss just to get more joy out of taking it away from her again._

He quickly wiped his eyes.

"Sylvie… I… I-I would never…" he shuddered through his own tears. He barely knew this slave, but he felt for every fiber of her soul. The story she tells with her frail frame, her perilous outlook on the world, and her innocence shook him to his core. It all reminded him of why he even wanted to pursue medicine as a career; for moments like this. Just a chance to truly save someone's life. Yet when he stood before this poor child, he felt it was his own life that needed saving.

His petting transitioned to a desperate hug. He pulled her small body in toward his own as his tears fell on his own shirt that she was wearing.

Her sobs seemed to intensify, she tried to reciprocate back the strength of his embrace, but her lack of strength was evident. "Please… d-don't…" she squeaked out miserably.

The doctor regained a bit of his composure before speaking again, "I am doing this because I care. I know no one cared before, but I do. I really do, you have to believe me, Sylvie. And you enjoying these things are not weaknesses or opportunities for me to trap you, Sylvie. It means you're alive. Alive and human. I promise you, you are ok now."

He continued to gently stroke her hair. Her sobs were reduced back down to loud sniffles, it seemed like his words were getting through alas.

"Come now, no more crying… Let's just finish our dinner and go to bed. I will do the check up on you tomorrow morning. It's been a long night." He wiped her tears from her face. Her eyes were fixated on his eyes the whole time. He could have sworn he saw a fleeting sign of life inside the farthest ends of her big hollow eyes.

As he began to let her go, she did something he did not expect. She pulled him back in for another embrace. She buried her face into his chest.

"Thank you… Master is… is… kind. I will try hard to serve you well, Master… I only know how to do that…" her voice was soft. It seems this was as close as he was going to get to a breakthrough for the time being. He smiled and pat her head once more.

"Alright. Sylvie. Let's just… start there." He sighed.

"Let's just start there." He said once more.


End file.
